


Storm with golden lightening

by Kiki_allo_specchio



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Season/Series 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29536545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiki_allo_specchio/pseuds/Kiki_allo_specchio
Summary: Dean can't sleep, too many thoughts crowd his mind.Cas is back (S13), and Dean tries to steal a few moments just for them.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Storm with golden lightening

**Author's Note:**

> #TheirLoveWasReal fanwork challenge, day 6: The sea
> 
> Friendly reminder that. English isn't my native language, so... be kind! :-)

Sitting at the kitchen table, Dean rubbed his face.

He had left his bed to grab a beer and then hole up in his room again, hoping he would fall asleep. He had sat down there, just a second, but now his legs were giving away and he could get up.

Exhaustion was trying to overwhelm him; he felt his head heavy and his eyes swollen, but that wasn’t enough to make him sleep.

He wasn’t able to rest; it was frustrating. Nonetheless, nothing could help him.

He was taking into consideration the option to drug himself to sleep, even though Sam found the thought worrisome.

The sound of footsteps behind him caught his attention, but he didn’t turn; he felt relieved, embarrassingly relieved.

“Dean?”

“Mh?”

He turned and look toward Cas as if nothing had happened; he hoped he could avoid being asked why he was still awake at 3 a.m., but Cas didn’t speak. He came closer and sat down, looking at Dean.

Alright. As if his thoughts weren’t enough to keep him awake, now he had to face that goddamn eyes.

And that damned eyes seemed to pierce right through him. As usual.

“I was… going out. I saw the light and thought it was Jack.”

Dean smiled and nodded.

“He eats at any given hour, don’t he?”

“He is a baby. I think it’s normal.”

Dean nodded, but then changed the subject. Something felt wrong.

“It’s 3 a.m., Cas. Why are you going out?”

Castiel suddenly seemed embarrassed. He looked away from Dean.

Dean felt something between his throat and his heart being ripped away.

_I’m such an idiot. Damn, I’m worse than a teen living their first crush._

“Since the moment I came back…”

Dean forced himself to breathe—everything was alright now, it was just a sad memory—but still didn’t move.

“… sometime I need to find my center again. There are places that make it easier.”

“What? Amusement parks? Bee yards?”

Great. When Cas smiled, Dean felt everything was ok.

“No, nothing like that. I go where nature is pristine: rain forests, glaciers, some uncharted beach…”

Dean reared his head and moved close to Cas.

“Wait. Did you say ‘beach’, Cas? Really?”

“Why?”

“You never took me to the beach.”

Ok, he hadn’t thought before speaking, but he hadn’t slept for days; a lack of self-control was excusable.

“You don’t want to travel like I do. You know that then…”

“Yeah, I know what happens then!” he said, interrupting him; he then shook his head. “But I’m ready to eat tons of plums, just for a day at the beach.”

“And so… you’d like to…?”

“Now?”

Castiel looked away again.

“I was leaving anyway. Any place is good, I guess.”

Dean wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he couldn’t say no.

He needed it.

He had long lived in uncertainty, and now he didn’t mean to do it again. He had had to bring the body of Cas in that house, to prepare him for the pyre and bring him out again. He had watched as the fire consumed him. It had opened his eyes and his heart.

He had denied, repressed, and ignored his feeling for so long that he wasn’t sure he could control them now; maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to be alone with Cas on a deserted beach. But he needed it, damn if he needed it.

He got up and he began to move without a word; he was sure Cas would have followed.

It was freezing outside. Dean shivered.

Cas was at his side and he looked at Dean.

Dean smiled and nodded and offered him his hand.

He felt such an idiot. Cas needed only his fingers to bring them away from there, but Dean needed more.

He waited a bit longer than he would have liked to before Cas took his hand. Dean tightened his grip even before Cas’ fingers had closed on to his.

*

A light breeze stroke his skin, piercing his shirt and tickling his feet. The sand was lukewarm: Cas had made them appear in a shady area.

Behind them luxuriant plants danced lazily moved by the wind.

In front of them, thought, the ocean shone green and blue. The sky was clear, with just a couple of white strokes, and seemed bigger than the one he was used to.

He could hear only the small waves breaking on the sand and the birds gently chirping around them.

Dean was amazed. He did see why Cas picked places like that one: everything around them gave a sense of calm, serenity, unbelievable peace.

The sky was clear and bright, so blue that…

Blue.

His hand was still hanging onto Cas’. He had been so taken aback that he hadn’t let go.

He had to, hadn’t he?

He quietly swallowed as he slightly tightened his grip.

Cas did the same.

Dean was shocked.

_“Ok, I’m screwed” he thought._

“Cas…” Dean said. Then he took a deep breath. Then another one. Then one more.

Why did he even opened his damn mouth if he didn’t know what to say?

Cas was there, silent and patient as he always was.

But Dean just couldn’t speak. He turned to his best friend, the angel who had fallen for him, the unspoken love Dean would protect at any cost now he understood what he felt. Dean smiled.

“Thanks, Cas. I needed it.”

He let Cas’ hand go e looked at the sea again. He sat on the sand and loosened up, as Cas sat next to him.

“Everything is so calm…”

“You should rest.”

“Please, let me enjoy the show. If I had the strength, I would have been swimming already.”

Cas snorted, amused. Dean felt a sting in his pride.

“What? Don’t you think I’d do it?”

“Of course you’d do it. And I’m sure you’d try to take me with you. Am I wrong?”

“You _do_ know me well!”

Had he sounded casual and nonchalant? The thought of the two of them in the water together had hit him like a punch in the gut.

Could it happen? Something so natural…

“But you are not swimming right now. I think you are exhausted.”

Castiel took away his trench coat, then his jacket; he folded them and he tidily piled them behind Dean. Dean hadn’t missed a single move.

“Lie down. You can rest peacefully here.”

Cas seemed unaware of himself. He had his hair disheveled, his white shirt was creased and his tie loosened.

_Damn it, if he looks at me like that, I’m gonna lose my mind!_

So, Dean used his usual defense mechanism to protect himself.

“You will watch over me, won’t you?”

He meant to sound sarcastic, but Cas was looking at him with his eyes full of patience and devotion, as he always looked at him. Dean bit down on the words he was about to speak.

“That’s how I roll.”

Dean snorted and then nodded, and looked at the makeshift pillow. A wave of gratitude overwhelmed him. He didn’t know how to express his gratitude, though.

Cas did watch over him. He _always_ watched over him.

Dean gave in to exhaustion. He lay down his head on Cas clothes, his eyes closed swelling with tears.

“Thank you” he whispered.

He wanted to touch him, hold onto him somehow, but he kept still.

He felt a light touch on the nape of his neck and then he knew he was safe.

*

Cas kept his hand lightly on Dean’s hair and made sure Dean could fall asleep not bothered by his thoughts.

He sighed, more to vent his frustration than because he needed to. He couldn’t stop to look at Dean’s face.

He had died and came back, but it hadn’t changed a thing. He was inextricably tied to that soul; and not because he raised it from Hell. If Dean hadn’t been Dean, Castiel wouldn’t have fallen as he had.

Dean’s soul was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

There was a powerful and complex part of his soul that didn’t lose its light even when Dean gave in to anger and pain. Dean’s soul was at times like a black and furious storm with golden lightening. And at times it was made of clouds turned soft and white. Nonetheless it was always, _always_ , bound together by light and gold.

And Castiel couldn’t help falling and falling again.


End file.
